


We're all crazy on this ship

by Wishonastar



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Character Death, Dark, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Kidnapping, M/M, Multiple Personalities, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Restraints, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-09
Updated: 2017-12-14
Packaged: 2018-11-11 12:48:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11148750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wishonastar/pseuds/Wishonastar
Summary: Taking back the ship from Getaway was the easy part for the Wrecker.   Taking back his own mind, however, is a battle he might not be able to win.Set after events of Lost Light #7





	1. Prologue

In the beginning it had been a good plan. It was fairly easy in fact.  Everyone was happy to send Rodimus on his way, with one exception.  He realised too late his mistake.  It should have been obvious, but he had missed it.  The fact everyone on this damn ship was slightly insane didn’t help his judgment.  War does that to mechs.  War and love.  The later of which his captor probably didn’t even understand he was feeling.  It would be a great joke if the circumstances were different. 

He couldn't distinguish between the days and the nights anymore. He had been chained to his own berth, for a good few weeks or so he thought. It was hard to tell. He was so groggy from Primus knows what concoction of drugs his captor had fed him. I guess it was better than starvation. Barely.

He had to hand it to him. He was the unlikely opponent.  Underestimated, unnoticed and as dangerous as they come.  Like a ghost he had disappeared shortly after the abandonment of Rodimus’s team.  Then one day the engines stopped.  Next the lighting went down.  They hadn’t known what to do.  That’s when mechs started turning up in medbay, never dead, just incapacitated.  All disabled in remarkable ingenious ways.  It was scary. 

Next was his turn.  He woke up to find himself in restraints.  His head had throbbed.  A cube  pressed to his lips commanding he drink.  He knew not too.  His processor screamed at him not too, but he was just so thirsty.  It was about a week into his confinement that he had confessed.  

He felt when the engines re-ignited and the ship jumped.

He could hear that deep smooth accented voice which haunted him.  It echoed throughout his cabin, waking him up from his incoherent musings.

"We've made a course correction my dear Captain." It said.

Getaway sneered "Waste of time. They’ll all be dead." 

"Hmm. No I think not." It replied

Getaway spat "Your fragging crazy." 

"Oh your right on that account my dear Captain.  Near death experience didn't you know?  Hmmm.  Does strange things to the processor."

Getaway looked at his abductor through fog glazed optics. 

"What makes you so certain they survived?"

"Maths, Probability, Percentages."

Getaway shoke his head trying to clear the unyielding haze. "Impossible."

“Tut tut, so little faith my dear Captain.  Do you really still believe you ousted an inadequate leader?  Hmmm.  No.”  He said shaking his head.

“I think you only succeeded in ‘displacing’ him. A prime, accomanied by a warlord, an outlier, a wrecker, a loadbearer and an ancient warrior with a great sword... just to name a few.  

“But do you know what your biggest mistake was? Hmmm?”

“You left them with a genius.  Which is quite unfortunate for you because…”

Perceptor smiled to himself.

I want him back. 

 


	2. Crazy gets Company

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m going crazy, I’m losing sleep. I’m in too far, I’m in way to deep.”

It wasn’t long after they left Necroworld that the occupants on the deception shuttle craft found themselves docking with the Lost Light.  They had bordered their old ship, hesitantly, expecting at the very least a small hostile reception.  Instead they were greeted with an eerie silence - the only sound to break it, a click of a rifle being disarmed. 

Perceptor had materialised out of the shadows to welcome them back.  Pleasantries were exchanged and after giving Rodimus a somewhat brief report, detailing the recent events over the past few weeks, he had left them to it.  

The crew was, to say the least, sceptical.  Even after Ratchet’s description of the patients held in medbay and listening to the petrified ramblings of prisioners who were locked up in the Brig, it was still a struggle to believe one mech could achieve such a feat. 

On arriving in his habsuite Rodimus found the little ‘gift’ Perceptor had left for him.  Getaway. Chained to his own berth.  Rodimus’s anger and dreams of vendettas were rapidly extinguished and replaced by disgust as he listened to the mutineer repeatedly thank him for coming back to save him.  Then, in a somewhat embarrassing display, he watched the escapologist plead and beg like an animal.  He asked to be set free, wanting more than anything, to be as far away as possible from the ship and its insane inhabitant.

In the end Rodimus took pity on him and granted his request.  Many of Getaway’s recruits followed.  Some of whom were still babbling on about devils of Primus and the like, roaming the hallways at night.    

Rodimus had only shaken his helm at such ridiculousness.  After all, it was his crew that had come face to face with the DJD and his crew that had been transported to a parallel universe!  Nothing else could compare to what they had all seen and been through.

This suited Perceptor just fine. 

And so the quest continued on.  The hype eventually died down and the crew settled back into a familiar routine.  One could say it was almost peaceful. 

......

"Oh for the love of Primus.  Yes. I had help!"  

Slamming his servos down on the lab table in front of him Perceptor had lost his cool.  

Brainstorm grinned underneath his faceplate.

Since their arrival back, life was going extremely well for Brainstorm.  For a start he had gained the trust and respect of Rodimus and the crew.  No surprises there.  After all, they wouldn’t have made it home without his genius!  But then came an even bigger change in his life.  His (slight) obsession with his co-worker was finally being reciprocated.  About time - I mean who could resist what he had to offer?

Obviously the changes were subtle.  Perceptor was hardly a fanatic.  They talked a lot more now.  Like, really talked (Perceptor actually listened to what he had to say).  He even went as far as to seek out his company.  Then there were the small smiles – the likes of which he had never seen before on the remarkably 'expressionless' scientist.  And to top it off, the ‘accidental’ brushes of plating.  Yip, all the signs were there.  Perceptor was interested… and flirting with him!  

And now he was finally going to be treated to the confession he had been digging for since they arrived back.  It had taken a couple of weeks of constant probing but he had managed to crack the impermeable shield that Perceptor had erected around himself.  Yes, he was still the master when it came to wearing down his reluctant co-worker.   

Brainstorm optics lit up, sparkling with anticipation as Perceptor let out a sigh.   

"Yes, I knew it!" Brainstorm exclaimed. 

"Why didn't you say something before?  You do know there are rumours circulating the ship?  Everyone’s saying you’re a tad bit delusional.  Why not just correct them?"

Perceptor scratched at the back of his neck looking uncomfortable.  "I promised I wouldn't."

"Oh come on Perce you can tell me.  Who is he? What’s he like? What’s he into? Out with the details already..."

Perceptor looked down at his desk, not wanting to make optic contact with his over excited visitor.  He took a breath and lowered his voice before he responded. 

"You.  He's into you."

"Excuse me?"  Brainstorm spluttered.

"Not like that.” Perceptor waved his arms. 

“I mean to say, he appreciates your work."   Perceptor stumbled.  "The time machine - it was genius really and your guns he finds incredibly fascinating.  I guess you could say he's a fan." 

Brainstorm mouth gapped open in bewilderment. "Wow!  Who in Primus is this guy? And how come I haven't run into him yet?"

"Perhaps you have and you just didn't realise it." Perceptor deadpanned. 

Brainstorm shifted uncomfortably.  An icy chill ran through him that made the metal on his arms prickle.  Something about the way Perceptor was talking just felt wrong. 

"Um… so Perce?  How long have you known this mech?"

Perceptor looked up.  "Not long.  I had a brush with him in the Wreckers."  Perceptor gazed off into the distance and mumbled something to himself. 

Brainstorm strained to hear.  "What was that?"

Perceptor snapped back to attention.  "It’s not important.  I’m sorry, I'm just tired. I haven't been re-charging well lately.” 

Perceptor’s shoulders sagged. 

“Brainstorm, do me a favour and promise me you won't tell anyone about him.  It would be... well embarrassing, after all I told everyone I acted alone.  I don't like to be the laughing stock of this ship."

Brainstorm looked down on him with a somewhat pitying expression. "Yeah sure Perce. I can understand what that feels like. Your secret is safe with me."

Perceptor lip plates turned upwards in another rare smile. 

Brainstorm all but melted. 

"Are you going to the re-opening of Swerves tomorrow night?" Perceptor asked. 

"Yeah wouldn't miss it for the world." Brainstorm beamed.

"Perhaps I'll see you there then." Perceptor let his hand brush up against Brainstorm's as he gazed at him. 

Previous conversation was all but forgotten as Brainstorm bounced out of Perceptor's lab feeling like he had just won the Nobel Prize. 

Did he have a date? 

......

Alone in his berth Perceptor tossed and turned finding himself unable to re-charge.  After another fitful hour he finally gave up and left his habsuite.  He headed for the only place he knew he would find comfort. 

Entering Brainstorms access code he sidled into lab and sat down at his desk.  The larger chair felt warm and comforting as he slumped down into it.  He took his time to look around the lab.  This had been his place of solace when the exile happened.  Apart from a bit more clutter and some equipment left out, nothing much had changed.  He offlined his optics as he finally felt himself able to relax.   

……

Optics flickering back online, a vacant look masked his features.  He gazed up at the shelves above him where Brainstorms gun collection hung.  Standing tall he stretched and grabbed the nearest one.  Without further consideration he slammed it down hard against the desk and proceeded to dismantle it with alarming speed. 

……

Perceptor jolted awake.  Checking his chronometer he noted it was almost morning.  He sat up quickly in a panic when he realised he was still in Brainstorms lab.  As he looked around his heart sank at the sight which greeted him. 

Every single one of Brainstorms precious guns now lay in pieces on the floor.  Pulled apart and dissected, they now looked like a living sea of metal.  Their inners generating a perfect spiraling pattern, which formed into words... 'you broke your promise'. 

Perceptor held his servos to his intake as he fought the urge to purge his last meal.  Head swimming he stumbled over to the pile, kicking and throwing the metal around to erase the obscene writing.  When that was done, he quickly left, shaking as he fumbled to lock the door behind him.

He was slowly losing control.

 


	3. Crazy has a Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The only person I'm afraid of is myself"

Perceptor sat in Rungs office.  It wasn't a scheduled appointment, merely a social visit of his own choosing. Rung had been pestering him for a while now, to have a friendly one on one, per se.  Perceptor knew it was a bit more than that.  Never the less, he decided it was time to take him up on his offer.  At the very least it would take his mind away from his 'late night activities'.  

"And then I punched the moon.  Can you imagine that? Me versus a moon?" Rung exclaimed. 

Perceptor smiled. It was a pleasant change to see Rung so happy and excited.  He was also somewhat relieved when Rung spent most of the time talking about his adventures while Perceptor glossed over his own.

Rung stood up and crossed the room still excitedly chattering away.

"And It’s become easier for me to produce them now.  I have almost streamlined the process.”  Rung beckoned him over to the cabinet in the far corner of the room.  “Come, take a look at them.”

Perceptor padded over, picking up and examining the objects that were proudly on display. 

"Photonic crystals.” Perceptor commented turning one over in his servo.  “They truly are beautiful.  I would love to be able to analyse them more closely." 

"Go ahead and take them.”  Rung ushered.  “There are plenty more where they came from.” 

Rung looked thoughtfully.  “Besides a new project might be just what you need.  Especially after the chaos this ship has seen.”

Perceptor nodded his thanks. "Yes I think you might be right. Thank you Rung."

"Anytime Perceptor. You know my door is always open for you."

......

Perceptor made his way out of Rungs office and headed down in the direction of the labs.  He knew he needed to face Brainstorm sooner or later or it would start to look suspicious.  Reminding himself again that he was ignorant of what occurred last night he rounded the corner and peered in. 

Brainstorm was sitting in the middle of a thick stack of parts.  His hands moved quickly as he sorted and re-assembled his prized collection.  At the same time he was talking a mile a minute to Nightbeat, who was casually leaning against a bench. 

Brainstorm noticed him first as he entered.  He stopped mid-sentence, eyes brightening with delight.

"Perceptor there you are! You’re not going to believe what someone did to my lab last night.”  He gestured to the mess.  "Nothing appears to be missing.  But man, It’s the weirdest thing.  Nightbeats on the case though.”

Nightbeat looked at him, bored and unimpressed.  He exhaled.  “But did they really need to break in?” 

"Well I guess I have been a bit relaxed on locking up lately." Brainstorm replied sheepishly.

"So you don’t remember locking up?  Hmm.  That means it could have been anyone walking by.  An opportunist?  Someone who doesn't care for you too much? There could be a long list of suspects..."  Nightbeat summarised. 

"Hey now that's a bit harsh!" Brainstorm glared. "I’ll have you know, I'm a wonderful person to get along with.  Isn’t that right Percy?"

"Indeed you are." Perceptor stated.

Brainstorms fluttered his wings at the praise.

Nightbeat narrowed his eyes. 

"I think I will go check my own lab now.”  Perceptor moved to leave.  “Let me know if you want a hand cleaning up.  Oh and Nightbeat…”  Perceptor eyed Brainstorm’s friend “I hope you find your culprit.”

"Oh hey wait.”  Brainstorm called.  “I’ll still see you tonight won't I?"

"Of course."

Perceptor could feel Nightbeat’s suspicious nature grating down his back as he left.  Brainstorm oblivious to the tension, resumed his conversation with Nightbeat as he continued the clean up.

......

Swerves was in full swing when Perceptor arrived.  The bar was almost at capacity.  Drinks were freely flowing and the atmosphere was joyful and welcoming.  Some mechs were already overchared, slumped in their chairs, while others were dancing around the unconscious frames, singing to music that was clearly far too loud for their own heath.  All in all it was a heart-warming place to be and Perceptor couldn’t help but smile to himself.

After ordering a drink at the bar, he gazed around the room spotting Brainstorm in a corner booth chatting away to Nautica.  Velocity sat at her side trying to look interested but failing miserably. 

He made his way over and sat down at their table.  Velocity instantly grinned, taking that as her cue to pull Nautica away from her conversation and urging her to hit the dancefloor.  After a few minor complaints and a sideways look, Nautica finally let herself be lead away.

Brainstorm smiled and scooted around the table to sit beside Perceptor.

“Hi.” Brainstorm greeted him shyly.

“Hi.” Perceptor replied.  

Perceptor’s grip tightened on his glass when he noticed Brainstorm had removed his faceplate for the occasion.

He glanced over at the dancefloor to distract himself.  “She’s a good dancer.” 

Brainstorm didn’t take much notice of Nautica.  “I guess so.” He replied, his eyes never straying from the mech beside him.

They talked.

The conversation flowed easily between them as the night drew on.  Perceptor had found very early on Brainstorm was one of the few mechs who could keep pace with him.  He knew he had a habit of droning on about science and theories while other mechs stared at him with blank faces.  But Brainstorm never did.  He listened with interest, offering his own insights and more often than not, they found themselves in a heated debate.  Perceptor found this a tad exhausting but also exhilarating.  Having never been challenged by any mech in the past, he actually looked forward to it.

When it all became a bit too much, Brainstorm was quick to switch topics.  Brainstorm enjoyed to gossip about the mechs aboard the ship.  Perceptor found this intriguing, as he was hardly the one to pick up on social ques and in a funny way he also found it comforting.

Percpetor wasn’t sure what it was, the tingle of high grade flowing through his lines, the loud rhythmic thump of the music or perhaps it was the warmth positively radiating from the mech beside him, he wasn’t sure, but Perceptor soon felt himself leaning closer and closer into Brainstorm.  When Brainstorm noticed he tentively picked up his arm and placed it around Perceptor’s shoulders inviting him to snuggle in further.  Which he did.  Brainstorm felt his spark almost burst out of his chest as he felt the weight of Perceptor laze across it.  His optics quickly darted around the room.  No-one was taking much notice of them.  He gazed down at the relaxed form of Perceptor and decided it was now or never.  Dimming his optics, he leaned down and placed a kiss to his lips. 

Perceptor stiffened.  Feelings of confusion, tension and nervousness flared through his system as his fans clicked on to a low setting.  He took a brief moment as he forced himself to relax.  Then he too dimmed his optics and let his mouth move in response.  The kiss was slow and gentle.  Soothing in ways that Perceptor couldn’t possibly define.  Perceptor opened his mouth to further deepen it.  The noise around them dissolved, and in that moment, Perceptor thought there was nothing that mattered more to him than this beautiful mech by his side. 

And that’s how they stayed. 

“Alright… games up love bunnies.” Whirl stood over them clicking his pincers. 

“You gotta stop.  It’s been like nearly 20 minutes!  The whole bar is looking for uptake buckets.  Roddy literally just purged and blamed it on the two of you.  I think it had more to do with the jug of nightmare fuel myself.” 

Pointing Whirl continued.  “And old Chromes and Rewind are getting ideas. To top it off I gotta go chase the purple Cyclops.  He just left in tears, ranting on about Tailgate.  That mess is on you by the way.”

They both pulled their lips apart.  Brainstorm laughed but didn’t let go of Perceptor. 

“Um. Sorry about that Whirl.” 

“Yeah whatever.”  Whirl bounded away to give chase. 

Perceptor rested his head back on Brainstorms chest and closed his optics.  

……

He jittered back awake as voices filtered their way across the bar to where they were sitting.

“Just take a look at him.  I mean come on really?  There’s no way he would be able to take down Getaway.  It’s a joke.  He’s a joke.  What a pair of losers.”

The mech let out a surprised yelp as the glass he was about to place to his lips shattered into pieces.  He turned to face a menacing Perceptor, up on his feet looking down the barrel of a smoking pistol.

The music abruptly stopped and patrons turned towards the source of the commotion.  The mechs who had been standing talking at the bar scattered.  Swerve bravely intervened and as politely as he could, asked him to leave.

Perceptor simply harnessed his guns and far too calmly strolled out the door.

He didn’t look back to see the look of bewilderment on Brainstorms face.

......

Moaning Perceptor awoke in his berth.  His helm was spinning and aching and he couldn’t seem to focus his optics.  Everything felt wrong.  Lying down looking up at the ceiling, he could see the bottom of his berth as well as either side of his room. 

He sat up shaking, trying to clear his vision.  His targeting molecule spun and focused and a slow panic started to build as he realised it was that modification giving him the 360 vision.  Feeling around his helm there were indeed new pin prick sized insertions, which he assumed were tiny cameras connected to his targeting lens.

Standing up he swayed.  He took a step.  Again something wasn’t right.  He walked over to the full length mirror near his desk too investigate.

The sight which greeted him was one of horror.  Unable to keep it together any longer he collapsed on to his knees.    

How was he ever going to explain this?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please feel free to comment if you think I should continue writing or if you think this is absolute rubbish!


	4. Crazy gets new Mods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Crazy people are considered mad by the rest of the society only because their intelligence isn’t understood”

Perceptor looked in the mirror.  He slowly let his hands slide down the front of his thighs to feel the alterations he had made to his framework.

He had new guns - that was obvious.  His targeting reticle focused in on them.  They were unusual.  Unlike his pistols, still hidden away in their side compartments, these guns were clearly on display.  Located under a thick sheet of glass, he hesitantly let his servos graze over the top.  The glass instantly retracted.  He quickly pulled away and the glass settled back into place.  Gulping, he looked over the rest of his body.  There were no other new additions (thank Primus).  Unfortunately, sometime during the night he had decided his colour scheme needed an update. 

Once where his proud ‘Autobot Red’ adorned his armour, an intimidating deep purple took its place, complete with dark blue accents.  It wasn’t altogether unattractive, in fact, the blend of colours made his somewhat boxy frame look far more curvy and enticing than it normally would.  On the other hand, it also had the effect of projecting a ‘Don’t mess with me or I’ll kill you’ type persona. 

Perceptor cringed.

An incoming com distracted him briefly from contemplating his new look.  It was Brainstorm.  Perceptor sighed and readied himself before he initiated the com link. 

_“Hello Brainstorm”_

_“Hi Perce. Um… How are you?”_

_“I’m good.”_

_“That’s good.  Umm.  I Just wanted to check to see how you were doing. You left in a bit of a hurry last night.”_

_“I’m OK.”_

_“OK.  That’s good.  You know, no-body is blaming you for what happened last night.  Those mechs really had it coming to them by the sounds of it… I think. Anyway, it's all fine.  Really.  Can I come see you?”_

 _“I don’t think that’s a good idea at the moment.”_ Perceptor replied.

Brainstorms voice dropped in disappointment.

_“Oh OK. What about tonight then?”_

Perceptor silently cursed.  He knew he couldn’t start avoiding Brainstorm (he didn’t want to start avoiding Brainstorm) or the rest of the crew for that matter. 

He gathered himself together.  As Brainstorm suggested it was going to be fine.

_“Yes.  I’ll drop by tonight.”_

He could hear Brainstorms enthusiasm over the com as he shut it off. 

……

Glancing down at his new guns he contemplated his next move.  He needed to test them.  Not in his room of course.  Getting up he padded towards his door and peeked out into the hall.  No movement.  It was still early; he assumed most mechs would be re-charging off their over-indulgences of the previous night.       

Sporting a false confidence and setting his expression to neutral, Perceptor set out for the firing range.

He had almost made it to the end of the corridor when Drifts habsuite door abruptly opened.  Rodimus sheepishly tiptoed out, looking in either direction.  He froze when he spotted Perceptor.

Without so much as a twitch, Perceptor acknowledged him and continued on as if nothing was out of the ordinary. 

Thanks to his new modifications he was able to watch Rodimus’s reactions.  Firstly, it was just plain mystified staring.  Next he glanced down at his own purple plating.  Then lastly, when he finally regained some sense of awareness, he scrambled back into Drifts room.  Before the door was fully closed, he could hear Rodimus panicky tone. 

“Drift, I think we might have a problem…”

......

The firing range was deserted as Perceptor had anticipated.  It was small but served its purpose well.  He strode over and took up residence at one of the stalls. 

The glass on his thighs slid back as he went to inspect his new guns.  He picked one up and juggled it around in his servos. It felt oddly heavy but weighted expertly.  Clicking it open he looked at the bullets inside.  They seemed to be sparkling.   

At first he was confused at what he was seeing.  Surely not?  He couldn’t have?  Popping one bullet out he inspected it closely.  His suspensions proved correct. 

Of all the things he could of made, he had chosen bullets…. Fussed photonic crystal bullets. 

Rung would be so very proud of him he thought bitterly.

Perceptor tensed as he heard a clang from the doorway and a loud click of pedes announcing the presence of another mech in the room.

Whirl spotted Perceptor instantly.  Slowing his pace, his lone optic flickered over the back of bot, before darting around the room.  Perceptor heard the tell-tale clicks of battle protocols onlining, as he watched Whirl subtlety change his stance.    

“Good Morning Whirl.” Perceptor acknowledged his presence before anything could get out of hand.

“Perceptor?” Whirl questioned not moving from his position.

 “Feel free to lower your artillery.  I’m not going to hurt you.”  Perceptor responded.

“Are you sure about that?”  Whirl cocked his head but powered down his guns anyway.  He took up a place beside Perceptor on the range.  Looking over he studied his new purple plating as Perceptor continued to fiddle with his gun. 

After a while Whirl broke the silence. “Nice paint job.  Seems to be all the rage at the moment.”

Perceptor huffed.

Whirl pressed on.  “I’ve got to warn you though.  After that little stunt you pulled at Swerves and this extreme new look, people are going to think you’re a Nutjob.  And you know that’s my title.  I don’t like sharing.”

Perceptor sniggered. 

Whirl took that as an invite.  He inched closer to see what Perceptor was toying with.  “So what you got there?  They look cool.”

“I’m about to find out.”  

With that Perceptor aimed.  “You may want to step back a moment.”    

He fired. 

The target exploded, unexpectedly sending Perceptor staggering backwards. 

“Whoa.”  Whirls eyes lit up.  “That’s something you don’t see everyday.” 

They both moved forward together and peered at the target.  It had all but disintegrated but that wasn’t all.  The re-enforced wall at the end of the firing range now held a small bullet sized hole.

“That’s some heavy artillery your bagging there Perceptor.  You could easily penetrate a spark chamber with that bad boy.” 

Perceptor gulped.

Whirl looked thoughtful.  “Percy.  Can I call you Percy?  I’d like to give you some advice.”  He continued on.  “You know the first rule of the Wreckers – “Nobody talks about the Wreckers.”  Well In your case I think we should make an exception.  I would offer my council but the purple people eater has taken up permanent residence with my empathy and I didn’t have all that much to give in the first place.  Anywho, Can I suggest Rung?”

Perceptor turned to glare daggers at the helicopter.

“Yeah thought as much” Whirl backed away slightly.

“Perceptor you’re a good mech.  You know you don’t need to prove yourself to no-one.”

Whirl tried to look as casual as possible as he scurried out of the room.   

Perceptor watched him go.  Once he knew he was alone, he decided to give these new weapons a true test.

Standing with his back to the target he braced for the recoil.  Drawing both guns he fired them in quick succession.  The backlash was intense but he remained secured to the same spot.

Turning around he ignored the target and studied the wall behind. 

It still held only one bullet sized hole. Perceptor smiled. He had always been more than a good shot, now, however, one could say he was perfect.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure when I will get a chance to update again but I will continue when I have the time! Hope you enjoyed this.


	5. Crazy in Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Crazy people don’t know they are crazy. I know I am crazy, therefore I am not crazy, isn’t that crazy.”

Later that evening, Perceptor stood outside Brainstorm’s room. He pinged for entry and waited nervously in the hallway.

Looking back, it hadn’t been a pleasant day. After the shooting range, Perceptor forced himself to walk lengths of the ship. He had wanted to adjust to his new look and gauge the crews reactions. There was no benefit in hiding out in his lab all day - as much as he had wanted too. It was nerve raking bumping into mechs for the first time, but he compelled himself to carry on regardless. And like most situations, it became easier over time. 

Eventually he started to anticipate the varied responses. The majority would give him sideways glances and a wider breadth as he past. Some would change direction and scurry off, while others seemed to stay glued to the spot. Perceptor thought, if this was anybody else’s experiment he would find it altogether fascinating. It was not, however, and as he rounded one last corner he happened upon Swerve. 

For someone who was always so openly loud and talkative, not a single word left his mouth. There was no cheerful hello or the start of some mundane conversation Perceptor had no interest in, instead his mouth stood open, frozen in place, his optics staring and body completely immobile. Perceptor thought he looked plain ridiculous but it was also rather intriguing. He shouldn’t have done it – maybe it was Brainstorms influence rubbing off on him, or his urge to prove a theory – either way, he had. He leaned in close to Swerve’s audial, breathing heavily down his throat and whispered.

“Boo.” 

Hypothesis confirmed he sighed as he continued on his way, leaving Swerve in a mess of his own waste tank. 

And now here he stood. He had invested a lot of time visualising this moment. Brainstorms opinion had come to mean a lot to him of late and the thought of his rejection wasn’t something Perceptor wanted to deal with. He was barely keeping it together as it was. 

He braced as the door opened. Once again Brainstorm’s faceplate had been removed so his reactions should have been easy to calculate. But it wasn’t what Perceptor had prepared for. There was no rejection, fear or disgust. It was…. He didn’t quite know?

Brainstorms eyes brightened and he shook his helm letting out a low whistle.

“Wow, Perceptor. You look….”

“Frightening…?” Perceptor finished his sentence for him.

Brainstorm mouth gaped open. “No. Not at all!” he countered. “It’s different. That’s for sure, but in a good way. You look… breath-taking.”

Perceptor couldn’t help but show his surprise.

Brainstorm looked him over again. “I had heard you made a few changes. Gossip spreads pretty quickly around this ship you know. For the record I think it’s all nonsense. Purple suits you. Nautica is just jealous.” 

Perceptor felt relief wash over him at Brainstorms easy acceptance of the changes he had made.

Brainstorm grinned cheekily “You're gonna have to lend me that paint. I have a few instruments in my lab that need their colour scheme updating.”

Perceptor frowned.

“Joking Perce, Joking… Well, Kinda.” Brainstorm grabbed his arm and changed the topic. “Come inside. Talk to me.”

There was no room for argument as Perceptor was roughly dragged inside and the door locked behind him.

Brainstorms habsuite was, unfortunately, quite familiar to him even though he had never actually set foot within the room. He glanced up at a vent in the ceiling. He might not be as small as ravage, but with a bit of finely tuned mass displacement it seemed no place was really inaccessible.

Perceptor felt Brainstorm’s arm once again pulling him over to sit on the couch. Brainstorm sidled up next to him. His previous tension of the day ebbed away, as he once again found himself relaxing in his present company. 

“You’ve got new guns too.” Brainstorm noticed excitedly for the first time. 

“That guy really wound you up last night didn’t he?”

“Maybe a little bit.” Perceptor agreed.

“You’re full of surprises Perce. Who knew when you get angry you make weaponry? And you didn’t even think to invite me to help you. I should be insulted!” Brainstorm faked an indignant expression.

Perceptor grinned. “Maybe next time.”

Brainstorm fluttered his wings and gazed at the other scientist.

“You’re incredible, do you know that?” 

Perceptor had no time to answer as Brainstorm impulsively shifted into his personal space. Wrapping his arms around his neck he leaned in and plated an impromptu kiss to his lips.

Pulling back Brainstorm breathed. “Sorry, I’ve been waiting to do that all day.”

Perceptor shyly smiled and nuzzled into the crock of his neck. “I don’t mind.”

Brainstorm’s fluttered his wings once again and the words tumbled out of his mouth before he even knew he was thinking them.

“Stay here tonight.” He blushed at his own forwardness.

Perceptor contemplated. Nights were rapidly becoming a major problem for Perceptor. He didn’t quite know how to explain his uncontrollable activities to Brainstorm. It would certainly scare him off if he ever found out and that was the last thing Perceptor wanted. However, he did want to spend more time in his company. Perhaps that's what he needed. Things might be different if he had company. Coming to a decision he responded trying not to sound as nervous as he felt. 

“I would like that.” 

Brainstorm jittered excitedly.

“But let’s agree to take things slow.” Perceptor warned.

“I can do slow.” Brainstorm nodded. 

……

Perceptor was greeted by darkness as he snapped online. He felt momentarily disorientated at the unfamiliar room and berth, before he noticed the outline of the mech lying beside him. 

He remembered then. He was in Brainstorm’s room. Easing himself up into a sitting position, he was careful not to wake his sleeping beauty. He sat there for a moment, alone in the darkness... just gazing. After a while, he reached over and placed a digit on Brainstorms chest. He circled his Autobot insigma before lightly maundering it down over his seams, letting it come to a rest on his pelvic plating. In his sleep Brainstorm let out a faint whimper that sent a warmth spiralling through Perceptor's own plating. 

“Just looking at you is getting me all charged up my darling.” He whispered.

Removing his servo, he leaned in and placed a delicate kiss to Brainstorms check.

“I'll be back for you later."

……

Drift was concerned. Yes, maybe he had been a bit pre-occupied of late to take notice of his old friend, but that didn't mean he didn't care. He knew Perceptor was a very capable mech, but it seemed perhaps he was taking things a little too far. 

Rodimus was spooked. Drift had tried to reassure him a dozen times the scientist was perfectly harmless, but even he had to admit, his actions of late were out of character.

A chat was long over-due. 

Drift had been contemplating all day on the best way to approach Perceptor when he happened upon him. 

It was very late as he stood outside the training room door. Drift had not been able to recharge, tossing and turning most of the night (and listening to the obnoxious snoring of the mech beside him hadn't helped either). He had finally given up and decided on a late night sparing session instead. But when he reached the training room this was not what he had expected to see. 

There in the middle of the floor, in a blur of black and purple motion, Perceptor expertly wheeled two practice swords. The air seemed heavy as he sliced and weaved them through a series of intricate patterns and stances, ones which were all too familiar to Drift. It was beautiful to watch but frightening in a way only a trained swordsmech would understand. 

It was almost like looking in a mirror. 

Drift tentively pushed the door open and continued to gape in a surreal horror. 

“Welcome Drift.” Perceptor's cultured voice echoed through the room without missing a beat of his dance.

“Where did you learn to do that?” The words came tumbling out of Drifts mouth.

Perceptor laughed as he finished his session with an elaborate twirl, coming face to face with Drift. 

"What? No hello? How have you been? Hmm. Where are your manners Drift?"

Drift circled Perceptor, eyeing the new additions and changes to his frame.

“I asked you a question. Where did you learn that?” 

Perceptor stepped closer, an out-of-character smirk taking up residence upon his faceplate. He all but purred into Drifts audio. “You my dear.”

Drift took a step back looking slightly stricken, his servos instinctively coming to rest on his scabbards.

Perceptor continued. “Why Drift you seem surprised? The body does what the mind tells it to do, don't you know? And Perceptor spent enough hours watching you through his rifle’s scope to learn a trick or too…” 

Drift looked oddly at Perceptor. “Why are you talking like that?”

“Like what Drift?"

"Like Perceptor's a different mech"

"Oh but he is… He’s very different to me.” 

"Who are you suppose to be then?"

"I like the name… Persecute.” 

Drift swallowed hard. 

“Percy I think you should see Ratchet. Something’s not right with you. I'm sure he'll know what to do. He can fix..." Drift gestured in the air... "Whatever this is.”

Perceptor pondered. 

“Alright Drift but first… Come over here. I want to spar with you. I know you’re dying to pull out those swords of yours." 

Drift hesitated.

Perceptor continued to bait. "What are you afraid of? That I might hurt you?”

Drift snorted. “Not likely.”

Perceptor smirked. “Then what are you waiting for?"

"Dance with me."

……

It had taken a full half hour. The fight had been anything but a dance. Swift kicks to plating had left dents on both sides as the pair of them had resorted to dirty tactics to try to overcome their opponent. 

Drift had finally called for a truce after realising Perceptor was able to counter his every move. He was a baffling opponent, offering few attacking moves, but able to defend anything thrown at him. It was like battling a computer programme. Even when his back was turned he could anticipate and block his moves. The most frightening thing about it all was he seemed to be learning. Drift was all out of ideas. 

He raised his hands up in surrender. His fans strained hard to expel the heat gathered under his plating. 

"Enough. We're done." He gasped. "Time to go see Ratchet."

Perceptor pouted. "Oh but we were having so much fun."

Drift looked at him unamused. 

"Hmm... OK Drift, you win. But could you do me just one last favour? Turn your head slightly to the left." Perceptor asked. 

"What on earth for...?"

Drifts question was answered as he felt the bullet rip through his helm. His body dropped instantly to the ground. Unable to move any appendage, including his vocals, he lay there in a stunned silence. 

Perceptor harnessed his pistol. Walking over to Drift he immediately opened his port and connected. Drift had no chance as Cybertron’s astutest mind worked ruthlessly to tear down firewalls and block his communicators. 

“There that's better now.” He patted Drift on the check. 

“Wouldn’t want you to contact anyone."

Perceptor hummed as he continued to work. 

"Really Drift. Always trying to be a hero. That must but exhausting. You’re going to take a little nap now. Oh don’t look at me like that. I’m not going to kill you. Perceptor doesn’t like me killing his friends. Your self-repair will take care of your situation in a day or so. And when you wake up you won't remember a thing."

Drift felt faint as his current memory files were rapidly deleted. He gazed up in a muddled haze at his friend, before he finally offlined. 

……

Brainstorm was startled awake.

He instinctively reached over to where Perceptor should have been recharging only to find an empty space. Once his optics adjusted he noticed the shadow at the end of the berth. A small chill crept over his plating - a similar feeling to the one he had in the labs not too many days ago.

"Percy is that you? What are you doing?"

Perceptor sauntered towards him, a cold determination in his optics. Without speaking a word he climbed onto the berth and moved to straddle Brainstorm. He roughly pushed Brainstorm backwards, using his heavier frame to pin the other mech down. His mouth nuzzled into Brainstorms neck cables, and a desperate lust flared openly out through his field. 

Brainstorm gasped.

"Whoa Perce. You’re really warm." 

Perceptor grinded his interface panel down against Brainstorms. 

"Your fault." He growled.

He pressed his mouth to Brainstorms, forcing his lips apart to thrust his glossa deep inside. 

Brainstorm whimpered as they pulled apart.

"I thought you wanted to take things slow?" 

"I changed his mind.”


	6. Crazy gets a Medical

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “People go crazy, not because they are crazy, but because it’s the best available option at the time”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to update. I havnt forgotten about it and it does have an ending! Although I am changing a few things as I go... (hope it still makes some kind of sense)

Perceptor shivered from the cold.He had lost track of how long he had been cramped up in his tiny washrack, but from the lack of hot solvent, it must have been awhile.He vigorously scrubbed at his plating.Teal paint transfers and dried transfluid, the evidence of last night’s coupling, had long since been removed, regardless he continued to grate away at them. 

He wanted to erase the memory.To forget everything that had transpired the previous evening.To say he was ashamed and disgusted would be an understatement.To top it off he had bolted like a coward the minute he had woken up.What sort of mech was he turning into?This needed to stop.

Lost in his thoughts, Perceptor jumped when he heard the sound of an incoming com.It wasn’t the first one of the morning.This time round it was Brainstorm.Perceptor sat rigid, his plating contracting under the cold spray.The alert pinged him for what seemed like an eternity before finally disconnecting.He slumped in relief.Surely this wasn’t real?Surely he was going to wake up any minute now and everything was going to go back to the way it was. 

“But you loved every minute of it.” the voice in his head reminded him.

Perceptor keeled over, clawing at his helm.

“That’s a lie.” he shouted at no-one.The sound of his voice bounced off the walls within the confined space.

Perceptor threw the wire brush he held with enough force to leave a small dent in the side of the stall.Finally he clambered out.

He needed to get to his lab.

……

Brainstorm sat quietly in the rec room cupping his morning energon.Sitting opposite him, Nightbeat and Nautica were engaged in a heated conversation regarding his personal life. They seemed oblivious to the fact he was sitting right there as they openly discussed his somewhat messed up relationship.His shoulders sagged in a sad resolve as he listened to his friends.How they had managed to wrestle the information out of him he would never know.He still refused to believe they were right but in the back of his mind he knew they might have a point.

He had woken up alone in his habsuite that morning.Alone and confused.The night had gone so well.He had convinced Perceptor to stay and they went into re-charge together.It was all he had ever wanted.Then in the early hours of the night something happened.Perceptor became very… insistent.He hadn’t refused.Perceptor hadn’t given him the opportunity to, but that didn’t matter, did it?No matter how aggressive it was, in the end it was what he wanted.Wasn't it?

Come morning and finding his berth empty was far more painful.The rejection he felt was crushing.

He looked at Nautica with downcast optics.

“He’s still not answering my coms.” He murmured.

“Why are you even bothering?” Nautica exclaimed.“He can’t treat you like that!You’re not a possession to do whatever he pleases with.”

“I gave my consent” Brainstorm muttered - more to himself than to Nautica.

“What the frag Brainstorm?!”Nautica looked at him in outrage. 

“Why are you even thinking about something like that?That’s not the way relationships work.By Primus, if you’re thinking about details like that it means you probably didn’t!”

Nightbeat waved his servos to silence Nautica and looked at Brainstorm in a serious manner.

“We need you to stay well away from him Brainstorm.Something's just not right, I know it."

“But I don’t want to stay away from him.”Brainstorm replied.

Nautica looked at him with a frustrated expression.

Brainstorm felt a well of his own anger start to rise up.He had known and worked alongside Perceptor for a long time.In actual fact, a lot longer than he had known these two bots.What right had they to judge?

Havn’t had enough Brainstrom stood up and announced he was leaving. 

With worried looks, Nautica and Nightbeat watched him go.

……

And there it stood. 

It was the first thing Perceptor noticed when he entered his lab.That and the large mess that seemed to be compounding exponentially by the day.He had known it was in there, one more item to add to his growing list of situations he had no idea how to handle.

Perceptor drew closer.The gem in the hilt of Drifts sword flared brightly as if sensing Perceptor’s presence.It stood proudly on his desk.The point stabbed into a small joint in the metal.It was meant as a gift - a gift he had left for himself from himself. Perceptor had wanted to analysis it more closely for a long time, but Drift had always said no.He was rather possessive of it.

He reached out and touched the jewel.He knew it was wrong but the scientist in Perceptor still ached to examine it. 

As he fingered the stone, Perceptor felt his spark start to race and he could hear a faint singing.Yesterday Perceptor would have scoffed at the notion of an inanimate object trying to communicate with him, however, today logic and theory wasn’t at the forefront of his mind.

It was a quiet taunting melody which seemed to vibrate through his very spark, making it beat just a little faster.It questioned his choices... his actions.Perceptor listened intently, so much in fact he almost didn't hear the clang of a heavy set of pedes nearing his door.

Clasping both servos around the hilt, Perceptor ripped out the ancient relic that had been embedded in his desk and seeing no other alternative he quickly concealed it in his subspace.

Straightening himself up he let his expression turn blank as he turned to meet his visitor.

......

"What in Primus is going on Perceptor?"

Ratchet made his way into the centre of the lab where he stood, arms folded and glared dangerously.

"Hello Ratchet." Perceptor greeted his unwanted guest, putting on the most cheerful welcome he could muster up.

Ratchet continued to glower as he looked Perceptor up and down. 

"So what's the deal Percy?"

"I don't know what you mean Ratchet"

Ratchet scowl deepened as his voice took on a sarcastic tone.

"Well let me see now. For a start you threatened a mech at Swerves.Then apparently you shot a hole in the side of our impenetrable ship when you were at the firing range with Whirl.You went on to spend most of yesterday strolling the hallways scarring the frag out of the crew.Today, you havn’t been answering your coms."Ratchet looked around the lab… “Your lab is a Prime forsaking pig sty…"

"And then there's the small matter of you looking like a fragging Decepticon."

Perceptor tried not to flinch as Ratchets voice cut like steal.

He almost felt like adding to Ratchets list; shooting Drift in the head, deleting his processor, stealing his sword and stuffing him into a supply closet, then going on to rape the mech he was currently dating...

But instead he stayed silent.

Ratchet sighed heavily and looked Perceptor over. 

“Perceptor, why is your plating so dented?You look like you’ve been in a fight?”

Perceptor shuffled on the spot.His processor somersaulted as Drift’s sword seemed to scream at him to tell the truth.

Unable to get any sort of response Ratchet huffed."Look Percy.Rodimus has ordered me to give you a full medical.You either comply or get demoted from your position.” 

"There’s really no need for that Ratchet, I'm fine.”

"I'll be the judge of that."

Leaving no room for debate, Ratchet turned and walked out the door, beckoning Perceptor to follow him.

…… 

Perceptor lay uncomfortably on the medical berth.He could feel Drifts great sword digging into his back strut as his subspace was stretched beyond its capacity - his build was never designed to carry such large items.Not only that, but the stupid crazed relic still hadn't ceased its singing.Primus forbid he had enough voices in his head!

Ratchet loomed over him. 

"So do you want to tell me why you look so nervous?"

Perceptor stayed silent. 

Ratchet sighed tapping his medical port. "Alright then...open up"

Perceptor complied and Ratchet plugged his data pad in and ran a diagnostic program.

Perceptor winced as Ratchet's scowl turned even sourer.

Ratchet unplugged.

"Perceptor most of your systems are normal.Your spark rate is elevated but not beyond fatal levels. What I’m concerned about is the readings from you brain module.They are peculiar.I've never seen anything like this before.In fact, the data I’m receiving is a load of nonsense.” 

Ratchet levelled Perceptor with an even glare.He spoke slowly.

“What’s causing this Perceptor?And don’t say you don’t know.You specialise in bio mechanics for frag sake!”

Perceptor’s shoulders slumped in defeat. It was past time to talk.Somone had to know what was going on.

Perceptor took a deep breath.

“Ratchet, the reason why your readings don’t make any sense is because I have two.”

......

Ratchet looked at him in confusion.

Perceptor smiled and tapped his breastplate. “Under here.”

“You all know I made updates to my frame but what no-one realised was I also made updates to my processor.I essentially upgraded my brain module.”

Perceptor smiled proudly.

Ratchet looked horrified.

Perceptor noticed and gestured to the chair by his desk.“Perhaps you should sit down while I explain.”

“I wanted to fight for the Wreckers.To not be seen as the weak link.So I did what any scientist in my field of expertise would do.I created a new programme.One that could hold and analysis vast amounts of data in regards to weaponry, tatics, fighting styles and battle techniques.I originally based it on the schematics of Prowls battle computer, only I took it one step further, inserting it into a separate AI brain module. It can learn and adapt.I then linked it to my own so when I needed to I could essentially ‘flip a switch’. 

Ratchet gapped at him.“Flip a switch?”

“Well yes in a basic sense.It worked extremely well for awhile.Unfortunately my science experiment has since encountered some unforeseen side effects.”

“Unforeseen side effects?” Ratchet echoed. 

Perceptor shrank a little deeper under Ratchets scrutiny.

“Yes. A small oversight on my part.It seems the connection I installed works both ways.While I was tapping into the programme, I can theorise the AI was doing the same with my own brain module.I believe it has created new pathways and developed a personality of sorts.” 

Ratchet looked at Perceptor in shock.

“Perceptor why havn’t you said anything before now?”

Perceptor looked down at his thighs, almost embarrassed.“I was handling it.”

“Handling it!?” Ratched grinded his dental plates.It took every ounce of patience, but he held back his overwhelming desire to beat the slag out of Perceptor for being so stupid.

He considered Perceptor to be among one of the smartest and most sensible mechs he knew and yet once again he was proved wrong as stupidity reared its ugly head.He took a moment to wonder how any of his race had survived this long with so much stupid available to them.

Shaking his head, Ratchet willed himself to remain calm.

“OK.I want to take a closer look.”

Perceptor looked alarmed.“I’m not sure that’s such a good idea Ratchet.”

“Look Perceptor, In order to help you I’m going to need to know what’s going on up there.”Ratchet tapped his helm.“Let me open you up and take a good look around, do a thorough scan.We can then look at the results together and figure out a way to remove this thing.”

Perceptor considered his proposal.

“Alright.”


	7. Crazy goes hunting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “That’s why crazy people are so dangerous. You think they’re nice until they’re chaining you up in their garage.”

Persecute took his time to observe Ratchet from his position on the medical slab.  Having just recently woken up, he wanted to correctly evaluate the situation before making any hasty movements. 

Ratchet hadn't noticed him yet.  He was undoubtedly busy, scrutinising the results from his medical investigation conducted earlier on Perceptor's internals.  An investigation conducted without his consent none the less. 

Persecute made a face. 

He slipped off the berth quietly, briefly stopping to acquire a few of his favourite little medical bits n bots from Ratchets shelves.  He grinned to himself.  It was all just too easy.  Like taking energon treats from a sparkling. 

He casually sidled up to Ratchet, who was still deep in thought mulling over a printout of his brain module.  Well technically it was Perceptor's brain, he was just borrowing it for the time being until he could find a way to be rid of the annoying scientist.  He was fast growing tired of all the rules and restrictions Perceptor liked to adhere too.  The scientist seemed to have completely forgotten he had designed him to be a killing machine.  He was built with a purpose - a function…  and he had every intention to live out his life accordingly.

He looked over Ratchets shoulder at the screen.  It was truly a magnificent sight - the mass of integrating wires, embodied and infusing themselves into their host’s brain.  In fact, the scan pictures hardly resembled a mechs brain module anymore.  It was impressive, in perhaps a hideously gruesome kind of way.  

"I bet that’s not something you see every day."  Persecute said, his voice buzzing with delight.  

Ratchet physically jumped at the sound which had materialised from behind him.  He turned. 

"Perceptor. You’re awake?" 

Persecute casually stretched out his arms to relieve the stiffness in his joints.  

"Oh No, sorry Ratchet, Perceptor’s still very much asleep.” 

Ratchet mouth fell slightly ajar, as he puzzled over those words.

“Forgive me, where are my manners… introductions…”  Persecute held out a servo for Ratchet to shake.  “Persecute’s the name.”

Ratchet stared for a moment, dumbfounded at the gesture, before hesitantly accepting the outstretched servo.

Persecute smirked and purposely flung an arm over Ratchets shoulder.  He then leaned in close as he turned them both back to face the screen. 

"So tell me Doc.”  Persecute gestured as they both looked at the screen. 

“What's the verdict?  Are you going to try and remove that nasty destructive program Perceptor installed into himself?”

Ratchet was quiet, his face remained expressionless, but this close Persecute could feel the subtle tremble that ran through the CMO’s frame.   

He lowered his voice and thanks to Perceptor’s uniquely cultured accent,  he was able to deliver his next line in a low deathly baritone.  

“Hmm…you know what Ratchet.  I think you were.  I think you want to kill me.  You do, don’t you Ratchet?” 

Chills ran down Ratchet’s spine and he made his move. 

He went to grab the servo on his shoulder, ready to flip and pin the other mech to the ground using his weight.  Unfortunately, Ratchet’s response was already predicted and anticipated.  Persecute was more than ready.  He easily caught Ratchet’s hand and using his other free servo injected the contents of a syringe deep into Ratchets main line. 

“Frag.”  Ratchet murmured as his hand went instantly limp and dropped to his side.  The rest of his body followed suit and he slumped down to the floor.

"Frag alright." Persecute muttered.  “You won't be fixing Perceptor today.”  Persecute thought for a moment.  “Actually, I’m going to make sure you won't be fixing anyone ever again."

Heaving the limp body over his shoulder Persecute dumped the mech in a back room.   He looked at him and considered his options.  There was nowhere in the Medbay to hide or dispose of a body and Ratchet was just too damn heavy to manoeuvre around the ship, especially without being seen.  There was really only one option available to him. 

……

Persecute had just deposited the last piece of Ratchet into a waste bin when he heard the click of the door.  Quickly he jumped onto Ratchets desk, removed the catches from an air vent and silently pulled himself up, careful to replace the cover behind him. 

He watched as Velocity came into view.  She paced around the medbay. 

"Ratchet?"  

She stopped at one point leaning over to pick something up off the ground. Persecute squinted but couldn’t make it out. 

She then paused at the spot where Ratchet had been standing looking at… Frag… Persecute silently cursed… The printouts.  Pulling his gun out he carefully aimed and waited.  The shot wasn’t on, pieces of machinery obscuring his view and before he could jump down Velocity had back peddled and run from the Bay. 

"Hmph.” Persecute snorted in agitation.  He didn’t like to miss his target. 

He jumped back down from his hiding place. 

“Well, good luck to you girl” he mumbled as he ran after in pursuit.

......

The pursuit ended before it had really begun as Velocity slipped into Nautica’s quarters.

“Frag it” Persecute mumbled again in frustration.  He crouched down in the shadows of a nearby wall.  His fans clicked on with a low hum as his systems worked frantically to run multiple scenarios and calculations.

It was likely already too late.  Killing the pair would achieve little at this stage, especially if they had made contact with another mech.  It would only serve to draw attention to himself.

No, he would use the time to disable the biggest threat on the ship before it was too late.  Plus he seemed to be having…  difficulties.  He bent over and lay his palms on the ground.  A wave of nausea hit him hard as a little voice in the back of his head tried to reason with him.

Shaking his head and spitting out some congealed energex, Persecute regained his composure and got to his feet.  He growled and spun around walking back in the other direction.  Never mind the girls.  They were easy kills when it came time.  Right now he needed to eliminate the bigger danger.

Time to pay the big guy a visit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is taking forever to write. I just have no free time anymore. I can already say the next update won't be till at least Feb next year! :( So very sorry if anyone was reading this. I will try and finish it (if nothing else for my own satisfaction).


End file.
